


Shower Song

by BanhTM



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Ballad, Fluff, Gen, Saturn being Saturn, Team Galactic (Pokemon), lullaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanhTM/pseuds/BanhTM
Summary: Saturn catches his Boss singing in the shower.





	Shower Song

“What are you listening to, Saturn?”

Saturn plucks the earbud and holds it to Mars. “It’s this Italian song about stars and space. It’s pretty old, but I think it’s really relaxing.”

Mars listens to the melody with a sleepy smile. “What are they saying?”

“I don’t know. But it sounds cool. And a little sad.”

She peers over his music player. “‘_Lost Little Star?_’” She purses her lips. “How sad…”

Saturn shrugs. “It sounds good. It’s my mood music today.” He sways a bit to the rhythm. Mars also hums the melody as she resumes her work, her joyous voice making this song much more cheerful that it actually was.

* * *

Cyrus acknowledges Saturn with a slight nod as the younger man waltzes into his office with a feather duster.

_“‘Lost little star, lost little star,’’’_ Saturn hums in attempted Italian. That’s the only phrase he’s able to understand. _“‘Where is your home, lost little star?’’”_

Cyrus’s office is always immaculate and free of dust, but Saturn likes to barge in as an excuse to see if his Boss was still alive. There’s actually nothing more to clean, so Saturn uses this time to solicit in the beat of his music. Cyrus doesn’t tell him to stop, so Saturn continues humming.

“Bye, Boss.” Saturn bows slightly. Cyrus nods and waves him out.

* * *

That night, Saturn happens to wake up because he drank too much milk earlier in the day. As he passes back to his room, he notices the Boss’s door slightly ajar. Light is spilling from the crack.

“I told him to go to sleep seven hours ago!” Saturn mutters under his breath. He creeps up to the door and cautiously peers inside. After obtaining a clear visual, Saturn slowly lets himself into the room.

The Boss isn’t here, but the lights are still half-on. His computer is closed. The papers are all stacked away in his cabinet. Cyrus was the type to put away things as he used them. Saturn keeps his wit about him as he loiters around the room. He spots the vest with the golden “G” hanging in the closet.

“Boss?” Saturn whispers. _Did something happen to him? Cyrus would _never _leave the lights on when he isn’t in the room! ‘Waste of energy,’ the man would often scold._

The water is running from somewhere. _Oh. Phew. _Cyrus is taking a very early morning shower… probably after an all-nighter. Again. _Damn it, Boss, you hypocrite!_

As Saturn turns to leave, he hears something. Something that stops him in his tracks. A particular sound—_no!_ A _set_ of sounds wafting from behind the bathroom door. Sounds never heard before on planet Earth. It’s faint, but if Saturn concentrates, he can hear it clear as day.

_“‘Lost little star… Are you sad? Where is your home?’”_

_ Oh Arceus, what is happening here?! _Saturn presses his ear into the door. He closes his jaw and rubs his eyes. _Oh Arceus, this was DEFINITELY happening! _The Boss… this emotionally-reserved man who looked down on pastimes as trivial matters of life is actually _singing in the shower! _

The revelation hits Saturn hard as if Mars had dropped a bucket of ice water on his head.

_“‘All alone in this sea of light…’”_

_ ARCEUS ARCEUS his Italian sounds perfect! _Even Saturn doesn’t remember this part of the song! When did Cyrus…

_Oooh… _he must’ve been listening when Saturn barged into his office in the morning. No wonder Cyrus allowed the Commander to loiter around a bit longer than usual. Did the Boss actually… _like _the song…?

The water stops. All sense and primal instinct screams at Saturn to high-tail it out of the room, which he accomplishes in a heartbeat.

* * *

“Boo!”

Saturn yelps and slouches back into his chair. Mars squints at him. “Saturn,” she says. “Earth to Saturn. Mars to Saturn.”

“S-sheesh, Mars! At least warn me or something!” He scowls and attempts to return to his report.

“I did. You weren’t listening.” She twirls her dress. “You look a little tired.”

Saturn hesitates. _Should… should he tell Mars of his discovery? Of **that **event? Will she tell? Is she to be trusted?! This is _Mars _he’s talking about here…_

“Saturn?”

“Mars, I have some tea,” Saturn whispers fiercely. He glances around. Jupiter is all the way in the corner doing her own stuff. The grunts are milling around aimlessly, clearly goofing off again.

“Ooh!” Mars claps her hands. “Black tea or milk tea?”

“_Dirty horchata_.” Saturn smirks. He leans closer. “The Boss was singing in the shower!”

Mars gasps. Jupiter turns and raises an eyebrow, but she makes no comment.

“Seriously?” Mars squeaks. “This is the _Boss _we’re talking about. C-Y-R-U-S. _Cyrus._”

“I thought the same thing. But I heard him! It’s clearly him! I’d never forget that monotone anywhere!”

“What song was he singing?”

“The one I showed you.”

Mars blinks. “The sad song?”

“Yes. That one. But listen: his Italian was _perfect_! Exactly as it was supposed to sound like!”

Mars sits on his desk and thinks. She twirls a strand of red hair. “Why are you stalking him in the first place, Saturn?”

Saturn’s jaw drops. “I-I was _not _stalking him!”

“Better not,” Jupiter grunts, her eyes still on her work.

Saturn flushes. “I was _not _stalking him!” The grunts cast him a strange look. Then he leans in with an angry whisper. “S-seriously! I just happened to pass by his room, and the light was on! I was just about to tell him to go to sleep already!”

“Okay. I believe you.” Mars bobs her head with a weird smile. She swings her legs playfully. “Hey. Can I come tonight?”

Saturn raises a brow. “Where?”

“To hear him sing!” she says as if it’s obvious. And then an idea begins to brew in Saturn’s head. He looks around again and smirks.

“Mars. I have a plan. You want in?”

“Ooh! I love plans! What are you going to blow up now?”

“_Huh?_ No, Mars! No explosions! I want to test something…”

As Saturn explains his diabolical plan, Jupiter glances over at the two younger Commanders and frowns. She knows a prank when she smells one. However, it doesn’t involve her, so she’s more than willing to turn a blind eye.

* * *

“Hi, Boss!” Mars chirps as she bounces into his office, Saturn at her side.

Cyrus looks up from behind his glasses. “Good afternoon, you two,” he says in his usual monotone.

Mars grins. “There was a lot of _‘stars’_ yesterday, eh? I wonder if they ever got _‘home—’”_

“Shh!” Saturn pinches her arm. Her hands shoot to her mouth. Cyrus is giving them a strange look, but he nevertheless returns to his work.

“We don’t want him to know!” Saturn hisses as he passes an earbud to Mars, who nods. He presses the music player. She grins.

_“‘Baby, baby,’” _Mars hums as she trounces around the office. _“‘Touch me gently. Touch it right. Yeah…’”_

_ “‘Feels so good, baby,’” _Saturn moans. _“‘Down there. A bit more to the right—’” _

_“Commanders.” _Cyrus’s voice cuts across the heavy brass and sensual lyrics like a hot knife across butter. They freeze. With a pained, silent breath, they turn back to meet his flashing eyes.

Saturn yanks the earbuds from both of their ears. “Y-yes, Master Cyrus? Boss? Sir?”

Cyrus exhales sharply. “I need to work.” His implication is quite clear. Crystal clear. The two Commanders scamper away. When the door closes, Cyrus sinks back into his chair with a heavy sigh. He sets his glasses down on the table and messages his temples.

* * *

“We failed. Badly,” Saturn groans the next day.

Mars looks up from her nails. “Really? I thought he might’ve liked that song. It was hip.”

Saturn bites his lips. “Then why did he tell us to leave? It wasn’t even a minute yet!” None of them had bothered to sneak into Cyrus’s room that night, either. _They wanted to keep their heads, thank you very much. _

The everyday sound of shuffling grunts and mindless chatter fills the air. Then Mars shifts. “Saturn. Maybe we’re approaching this wrong.”

Saturn blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, Mars. What _do _you mean?”

The younger Commanders yelp at Jupiter’s presence. She’s looming over them, her hands on her hips, her lips set in a _I’m-not-cleaning-up-your-mess-this-time_ kind of look.

“H-hi, Jupiter,” Saturn whimpers with a weak smile.

Jupiter crosses her arms. “You’re not up to any trouble, right?” She rakes her eyes over the two.

Mars leans to Saturn’s ear. “I think we should let her into the tea.”

“What? Why?”

“Because she can bail us out!” A light shines on Mars as if she’d suddenly become the most logical person in this world.

Saturn turns to the older woman. “Jupiter. We got some tea.”

Jupiter clicks her teeth. Her eyes flicker to her left and right before settling back in the center. “What flavor are we talking about?”

“Dirty horchata.” Mars grins.

Jupiter purses her lips, but she can’t hide the appeal of mischief in her eyes. Saturn exchanges a small smirk with Mars. “Fine,” Jupiter sighs. “What is it?”

“Saturn heard Boss sing in the shower!” Mars gasps.

Jupiter’s eyes become very, very wide. She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again. She risks a glance behind her shoulder and shakes her head. “So you _were _stalking him!”

“No!” A flush of pink rises to Saturn’s cheeks. “I already told you! It was an accident! _Arceus, _it was an accident!!”

“_Of course_ it was,” Jupiter purrs, sending shivers down his spine. “You sure it was him?”

“It was _his _room,” Saturn mutters through the cracks in his fingers.

Jupiter taps a nail against her chin. “Interesting… very interesting… What song was he singing?”

_“Lost Little Star,” _Mars says.

“Really? That sad song? It was popular in Hearthome City a while back. Why the sudden interest?”

“It was my mood music. I guess he liked it.” Saturn shows Jupiter his music player. She peruses through his mix of both old and questionable songs with a nonjudgmental smile.

“Let me guess,” she says. “You want to get him to sing again, but you failed, and you need my help… to bail you out if the going gets worse.”

The younger Commanders gape at her. Jupiter chuckles. “Listen, Mars and Saturn. I don’t think he’ll want to listen to something like…” She squints. _“Touch Me Right Here.”_

“But it’s hip,” Saturn whines.

“I think it’s okay,” Mars says with a small, reassuring smile. “The… bass drop is nice.”

Jupiter keeps scrolling down Saturn’s playlist until her eyebrows lift. “Oh. This one. I’m positive that Cyrus might like this one.”

Mars looks over on her tip-toes. “How are you sure, Jupiter?”

She smiles. A guarded, secretive smile. “A woman’s intuition,” she says sweetly. “Well… that, and because he’s the type of person to like things like these, I suppose.”

Saturn raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

Jupiter places a hand on their shoulders. “Okay, you two. Let’s do this. Let’s light up this curmudgeon’s dull, empty life once and for all.”

* * *

Cyrus looks a little concerned when all three Commanders enter his office. Before he can say anything, though, Jupiter intervenes, “They’re with me today, Cyrus.”

Cyrus’s brows furrows. “I see… Very well then.” And then he settles back into his stack of papers.

The Commanders exchange a nod. Saturn distributes the earbuds and gives the signal to scatter.

Jupiter begins the mission with a soft hum. She outlines the leitmotif and reveals with melody with an almost wistful sigh. _“‘Many suns have set, many moons have risen… My old friend, will you still be there, at the place where everything began?’”_

This woman is _amazing. _Even though Saturn has _no _idea what’s she’s saying, he can feel her emotions seeping from her words. The feelings tug at his heart and present an odd sense of nostalgia for something that never was.

_“‘Remember, remember,’” _Mars whispers. _“‘Remember our promise from long ago… under the old lighthouse that now exists only in my memory…”_

The Kalosians have techniques to manipulate words into imagery. _That’s _why Saturn has this old song in his playlist. The French language, accompanied with slow, stringed instruments, always reminded him to appreciate the present.

As the two women sing, Saturn watches his Boss carefully from the corner of his eye. Cyrus is still glued to his work, but his feather pen had stopped moving. He has his hand on his chin, and his head is tilted so that his hair hides his eyes.

Cyrus hasn’t told them to leave yet.

_“‘The lighthouse keeps shining,’” _Jupiter continues softly. _“‘The light, I hope you can see, wherever you are now. See it and remember the old lighthouse that’s no longer there…’”_

The song is almost over. The Commanders look at each other in alarm. Cyrus hasn’t moved. Why, they haven’t even heard him _breathe. _

“Boss?” Mars squeaks. Cyrus slowly turns his head. His eyes have a faraway look to them, a look none of the Commanders can place. Then Cyrus blinks. He straightens, the cold mask sliding back into place again.

“Yes.”

The Commanders hesitate. “We’re going now,” Saturn says slowly, his eyes still on Cyrus.

“Yes.” Cyrus blinks again. “You do that. Go back to work.” He taps his pen on his desk and returns to his documents. Jupiter and Mars look at Saturn. He shrugs. The three of them bow and leave.

* * *

Jupiter and Mars are already waiting outside his room when Saturn returns from his early-dawn restroom break.

“Whu… whuzzah?” Saturn groans.

“Let’s go, Saturn!” Mars sounds readily awake. She shakes the sleep out of him.

“W-What? What’s going on?” Saturn sputters. “Why are you two camped outside my room?”

The older woman’s eyes are shining with childish glee. “You’re late, Saturn.”

“Late…? But… it’s four in the morning!”

“It’s never too late to hear the Boss sing in the shower!” Mars beams. That jars Saturn wide awake. The three of them hurries to Cyrus’s room while still in their sleepwear. The door is closed, but Jupiter eagerly grabs the handle and creaks its open. After securing the premises, she waves them in.

The water is running. The Commanders congregate outside the bathroom with hungry ears.

“I don’t hear anything,” Mars whispers.

“You have to concentrate,” Saturn huffs back. “Ignore the water.”

And sure enough, there’s that sound again. A faint, hesitant sound with the timbre of a hollow bell.

_“‘Though you and I are far apart… we’re still united under the sea of stars…’”_

“He knows French too?” Saturn mutters with wide eyes.

_“‘Let the lighthouse be our North Star… our beacon of hope against the trials of time…’”_

“He’s so monotone,” Mars gasps.

“Not surprising.” Jupiter purses her lips. “However, his accent is flawless! Where’d he pick up these languages?”

Saturn thinks he heard the water faltering but dismisses it as his overactive mind. “I see him walking around a lot.”

Jupiter makes a face. “Yes, but walking from Veilstone to Snowpoint City is different than walking from Sinnoh all to the way to Kalos.”

“Maybe he flew?” Mars offers helpfully.

“Flew? On Honchkrow and Crobat?” Jupiter raises an eyebrow. “Around Sinnoh, yes, but I don’t think Pokemon are suited to carry humans about regions!”

“Jupiter, you know French, right? Isn’t there a lot of people in Hearthome that speak it?”

“Yes, but… what does that have to do with anything, Saturn?”

“Oh, I thought you taught him some French. Oh, hey Master Cyrus. We were just talking… about… you…” Saturn’s words grind to a complete stop. Mars and Jupiter stiffens from the impending blizzard in the air.

Apparently, none of them noticed that the water had turned off not long ago. None of them noticed the pitter-patter of feet on the bath rug, nor the soundless creak of the bathroom door.

Cyrus stares back at the people camped outside his bathroom. It’s a strange sight to see him without his usual spiky hair. Only his head is visible, so the rest of his body without all those heavy layers of clothes is still shrouded in mystery. But right now, those eyes are unmistakably his, only this time they’re very wide and very, very bright.

Saturn stares back at Cyrus with open mouth. Cyrus tilts his head at Mars. Mars squeezes Jupiter’s arm. Jupiter swallows—hard. No one dares to break eye contact.

And then Cyrus slams the door. Just as Saturn thinks that the coast is clear, a word rumbles from behind the door. A word and voice as cold and sharp as a seven-foot long katana.

_“Get out.”_

The Commanders nearly trip over themselves as they flee. Jupiter ends up lifting Saturn and Mars into her arms as she sprints down the darkened hallway.

* * *

The feeling of impending doom become reality when Saturn receives a summons to Cyrus’s office the next morning. Mars and Jupiter are also here. Mars is wringing her dress for the thousandth time while Jupiter keeps re-tying the buns in her hair.

“He’s going to kill us,” Saturn moans. “He’s going to pick apart our brains and kill us slowly and painfully!”

“I don’t want to die,” Mars sobs.

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Jupiter snaps, but her own voice wavers. “I’m sure it’s nothing… dire…” Her words trail off to a whimper.

The door opens. They yelp and jump. Cyrus wordlessly beacons them in. The Commanders exchange a glance and shuffle into the office.

Cyrus is waiting near the windows with his back to them. His hands are clasped, his feet planted evenly apart. It’s too bright to see his face’s reflection.

The air crackles with tension. Saturn has to pinch himself to not fall under the dark, heavy presence that seems to _radiate _from the man of authority.

The silence is bone-crushing.

Cyrus shifts. They wince. His head turns slowly—Saturn can hear the tendons cracking—to reveal a marginal glimpse of icy blue eyes. “You heard.” And that’s that. Stated blankly and indifferently. Terrifyingly so. It’s never the threat of punishment or scolding that makes Cyrus so intimidating and untouchable: it’s his lack of emotional response. You never know what he’s thinking, and the trepidation is enough to cause the heart to race until it _stops altogether. _

“It was an accident!” Saturn blurts.

Cyrus raises an eyebrow. “Is it now?”

_Oh Sh—_

“Saturn saw you first!” Mars squeaks. Saturn gasps.

“N-no! Mars was the one that wanted in!”

“Wha--! Saturn told me there was tea! _Dirty horchata! _He was stalking you!”

_“No!” _Saturn’s face has flushed a deep crimson. “I wasn’t stalking anyone! _It was just an accident!”_

Cyrus’s mask falters for just a second. “Dirty horchata…?” And then his eyes grow cold again. “You were all camped outside my room.” He drums his fingers against his wrist. “Was that an accident too?” The younger Commanders cower under the heavy air.

“We’ll keep it a secret!” Jupiter exclaims. “No one will know!”

Cyrus turns. His head is tilted in that unnerving habit of his. As if he’s psychoanalyzing them. As if he’s waiting for them to incriminate themselves.

_And it’s working. _

“Let’s hope that’s the case,” Cyrus says, still in that dry, flat tone. “Otherwise, there will be… precautions.”

“Yes, sir!” the Commanders cry.

Cyrus’s face is unreadable. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other. You are all dismissed.” And he turns back to the windows that overlook the city of Veilstone.

The Commanders breathe a sigh of relief. They stare at each other, passing a silent message of gratitude and prayer. But before they can seize the moment of reprise, Saturn has to ask.

“S-Sir…?”

“Yes, Commander Saturn?”

Saturn takes a deep breath. “C-can I ask _why _you don’t want anyone to know that you sing in the shower?”

Cyrus stiffens. Jupiter steps in before Saturn can dig himself any deeper.

“There has been research that say that singing in the shower is very therapeutic,” she says quickly. “I think it’s a great pastime. The hot water also relaxes stiff muscles from a hard day of work.”

Mars also pipes in. “And I don’t think you sound bad at all! A little monotone… but… I liked listening to you sing, Cyrus, sir!”

Cyrus whirls back with not a scowl, but a very perplexed frown. He measures them evenly, his brain picking apart their words for the underhanded compliments or the snide jeers.

“That is not professional,” Cyrus finally grunts. “A leader must be presentable before his subordinates. If this relationship suffers, then their discipline and loyalty will also be jeopardized.”

Saturn licks his lips. “But… we don’t think any different of you, Master Cyrus. You’re still our boss. It just… makes you more relatable.” _More human, _Saturn leaves this unsaid.

Cyrus has an odd look on his face before turning to the side. “That’s exactly the problem,” he mutters, too low to reach human ears. But out loud, he says, “Regardless, this matter is now closed. I don’t want to hear another word of it.”

The Commanders nod. But Mars still has _that _look on her face. Before Saturn can stop her, she opens her mouth.

“You looked very serene when you heard us, Master Cyrus.”

“_Mars,_” Saturn and Jupiter hisses. They grab her by the arm and drags her to the door.

So everyone is surprised when Cyrus actually speaks. “I never said I disliked those songs,” he mutters into the comfort of his sleeves.

The Commanders freeze. Jupiter has to manually close Saturn’s jaw after handling her own. Mars beams, as if the tension never happened. “You heard them before, Boss?”

“Yes,” Cyrus says after a pause. He makes his way back to his desk. “A long time ago.”

“Your accent is _really _good,” Jupiter says meekly.

Cyrus’s brows furrow. He seems unsure of how to set his lips. “I know a colleague in the Kanto region. His mother’s side is Italian.” He’s talking to his hands now. “I also know someone in the Kalos region. I visit his labs when I have the chance.”

“Do you walk or fly?” Saturn says, only to be smacked in the back of the head by Jupiter. Cyrus’s uncertain frown just deepens.

And the he casts his gaze to the floor. “Did it… really sound all right?” Cyrus whispers, even though it appears as if his entire jaw is hurting.

“Yes.” Jupiter exchanges a smile with Mars and Jupiter. “You sound like a natural.”

The sides of Cyrus’s lips tug. It’s only for the briefest of seconds, and if you blinked, then you would’ve missed it entirely. But they all saw it. They all heard the faint sigh that escaped from his throat.

“Do you understand what the songs are saying?” Saturn dares to ask once Cyrus puts on his reading glasses. The Boss gives his subordinates a strange look before beckoning them to come to his desk.

“The first song,” Cyrus begins, his hands folded on his lap, “is an Italian lullaby by the name of _Lost Little Star.” _He repeats the title in smooth Italian. “Grandfa—I used to hear it back in the day, when it was still very popular.

“The story tells of a star that lost its way home. It searched in vain through the nebulae, only to be shunned by the other larger stars. It searched and searched… it kept searching for a millennium. The star had given up hope, and what little light it had left was swallowed by the night sky.” Cyrus pauses and absorbs their reactions. “So when people see a shooting star, they think it’s the lost little star, still yearning for its way home.”

No one speaks after he finishes. Saturn rubs his eyes. He’d rested his head against the desk. “Wait… so the star _never _returned home?”

“No,” Cyrus says, his mouth set in a thin line. “It still clung to its last shred of hope despite the ultimate reality. A wasted effort, in the end.”

Mars had climbed up his desk with her boots dangling in the air. “How is this a lullaby?”

“Gran—I was told that parents used this song to dissuade children from wandering too far from home.” His eyes flicker to another point in time, to a land beyond the seas. “It’s a cautionary tale about the sorrows of growing up.”

“That’s horrible,” Jupiter mutters. She too, is leaning against his chair. “Luckily, the children are too young to understand morals and lessons and whatnot.”

Saturn lets this sink in before moving on. “What about the second song, Boss?”

Cyrus scoffs. “You mean that pathetic excuse of sound? It’s as if an artist was slapping words against the wall while incapacitated! Highly inappropriate and poison for your brain cells.”

Mars snickers. Jupiter gives Saturn a _I-told-you-so _look. He flushes again and shakes his head. “I meant the Kalosian one! The one that Jupiter sang!”

_“The Old Lighthouse,” _Jupiter says softly and repeats it in French. Cyrus’s expression darkens. “It was popular back then. Couples would use it as inspiration to write letters.” Her gaze drops to the white line around her ring finger.

“I was told that it was a song written in wartime,” Cyrus says quietly. The younger Commanders stiffen. “It’s a tale that ends in tragedy… or in hope, depending on your opinion.

“The ballad begins with a young boy and girl. Childhood friends, I might add. They met under the light of an old lighthouse… and made a promise to always remain together.

“But the war had reached their city. The boy is now a young man. He was drafted into the war, much to his friend’s despair. However, they swore to meet again under the old lighthouse after everything is over.”

“They did, right?” Saturn squeaks. Mars echoes his sentiment. Jupiter catches Cyrus’s eyes and purses her lips.

Cyrus continues, “While at war, the sailor would look to the night sky and remember his friend. Even though everything changed, the stars remain the same as in his memories. The sailor saw the North Star--” Cyrus flips a paper over and draws the constellation for all to see “—because that was where the old lighthouse was built under.”

Mars and Saturn are holding their breaths. Cyrus adds a square under the constellation. He marks in little jagged waves for water. “Years later, when the war finally ended, the sailor returned to the old lighthouse. To his horror, his beloved city had been decimated in the carnage of war. He now stood on an island of sand and debris.” Cyrus pauses with a slight hesitation.

“The song ends with him digging through the remains of the lighthouse to find his friend’s red scarf… the very same one from long, long ago.”

Saturn can hear a pin drop in the silence that follows.

“So his friend left that scarf for him to find!” Mars exclaims with shining eyes. “She’s leaving that as a message for his return!” The adults exchange a glance at her proclamation.

“He had a happy ending,” Jupiter says with a sad, gentle laugh.

But Saturn notices that faraway look in Cyrus’s eyes again. The man tilts his head and regards Saturn blankly. “It… could also mean that she waited for him…” Saturn insists. The words get stuck in his throat. “She… kept waiting… and waiting…”

“No, Saturn!” Mars clamps a hand over his mouth before he can kill the mood. “They have a happy ending! It’s a message so they’ll find each other again!”

_But what if they didn’t?_

Cyrus taps his pen on the table. “Either way, it’s a fascinating example of words and sound. Both songs… this lullaby and ballad… Their open conclusions are what immortalize them to this day.” He looks at each of them. “I admit that I was… _not expecting_ to have heard these songs again.”

“Saturn has a playlist,” Jupiter says.

“Ah.” Cyrus lifts his gaze to the young man in question. Saturn chuckles nervously. “I see.” Cyrus looks as if he’s about to add something, but quickly decides against it. It leaves an awkward silence in the room.

Then Cyrus clears his throat. “I have a lot of paperwork to finish. If you need me for anything else, please let me know. Until then, you are dismissed.”

The Commanders silently shuffle to the door. “Thanks, Boss,” Saturn, Mars, and Jupiter call as they leave. Cyrus’s cold mask falters ever so slightly before he buries his head back into his stacks of paper.

* * *

Life in the Veilstone Headquarters returns to normal… as normal as the status quo, anyways. Saturn gave up trying to camp outside Cyrus’s bathroom to glimpse that small miracle. The thought had indeed crossed him mind more than once, but it remained a whim.

However, a refreshing change is looming on the horizon.

Sometimes, when Cyrus will frequent the halls, the grunts whisper to hear him humming some kind of song. There are rumors of the cold, stoic leader of Team Galactic muttering some kind of fancy language under his breath. Gossip and tales of melodies as soft and brittle as the first chill in Winter.

Sometimes, Saturn will catch Jupiter in Cyrus’s office talking about Kalosian cuisine and history. About Kalos’s influence in Hearthome City. The occasional French will slip in, to which Cyrus answers back without missing a beat.

Sometimes Mars will waltz into his office. Often she brings a flustered Saturn along. She will also bring a song for him to translate. Cyrus is hesitant at first, but he always gets back to her before the end of the day.

Then on one unassuming afternoon, Cyrus calls Saturn into his office. “Yes, Boss?” the Commander says.

Cyrus clears his throat. “Your… playlist.”

“Um… what about it?”

Cyrus taps his fingers against his arms. He seems to be painfully mulling something over in his mind. “May I see your playlist?”

A grin breaks on Saturn’s face. He laughs. “Yeah, sure. Here. You press this button to cycle through songs. Wait, Boss. You have to turn it on first. Yeah. Like that. You’re really getting the hang of this, Boss!”

“I-I see. This is quite fascinating.”

Saturn never passes at the chance to tease his boss. “So, uh… Cyrus, sir? I got some recommendations for those shower songs.” He watches with silent glee as Cyrus stiffens.

But the Boss doesn’t scold him. He doesn’t even look up.

“Do as you wish,” Cyrus huffs, only for Saturn’s grin to grow wider.


End file.
